


Safe and Sound

by OurHearts



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Angst, F/M, Friendship, Romance, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-03
Updated: 2013-11-24
Packaged: 2017-12-31 09:52:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1030283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OurHearts/pseuds/OurHearts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Commander Shepard must reconcile the responsibility of saving billions of faceless lives with her desire to protect the happiness of those she loves most. Written as an exploration of the inner thoughts of Shepard and other characters. Follows of the events of Mass Effect 2 and 3. Multiple POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Johanna M. Shepard

_AN: A quick note about this chapter. I wrote it before playing through the Shadow Broker DLC, which is why Shepard recieves her dog tags now. I could change this to line up with the DLC but nah. Assume this I will be sticking to all other canons laid down by the main game and DLCs, though. Thanks!  
_

_This fiction has an accompanying fanmix on[8track](http://8tracks.com/jmshepard/safe-sound-a-mass-effect-mix).  
_

* * *

 

_“Kaidan.”_

It wasn’t until she had a moment of peace, a moment free from gunfire or interrogation that his name passed through her mind and crept from her lips. Shepard hadn’t been awake long- six, seven hours perhaps- and her mind was still swirling and struggling with everything that had happened since she had been woken up on a cold metal table in a Cerberus Lab. She was used to warfare- it was her career, her life- but there was usually more than a few seconds between when she woke up and when she was dodging enemy fire.

 “Did you say something, Commander?” The man sitting across from her asked. She glanced up at him and caught his look of concern.

 “No,” Shepard answered quickly, looking away and out the window. Jacob Taylor seemed like a decent guy, but she was not in the habit of discussing her private affairs with virtual strangers. What’s more, the two of them weren’t alone. Sitting next to Jacob was one Miranda Lawson, and Shepard was still very wary of her. The first time she saw her she was shooting a man dead for a crime that she couldn’t prove he committed. Anyway, they were both Cerberus agents and from what Shepard knew of Cerberus, they were pro-human, anti-alien thugs.

 Looking down at her lap she was aware that the clothing she was wearing was Cerberus issued and, for all she knew, the blood in her veins was, too. If what they said was true, Cerberus had picked up the scraps of her body and painfully- at some extreme cost- stitched her back together. They said she had been out for two years. _Two years._ How could that be true? She had seen her files as she had made her way out of the facility, seen her x-rays and scans. It was bad. She had also seen the scars on her face, deep jagged things, and there were aches deep inside her body that she could not otherwise explain.

 She had solid evidence but her mind was reluctant to accept it. Hadn’t it been just yesterday that she sat around a table with her crew laughing and joking? It felt as though it had been just yesterday but… somehow it felt very long ago as well. What had happened? She had to remember…

 Two years ago, she began, the SSV Normandy was attacked and destroyed. Yes... She remembered this. She knew this was true. She got her crew off- no, only most of them. She remembered bodies, partially burned from explosions. Pressly hadn’t made it.

 The ship was blown apart. Whatever hit them had immense power; the entire attack couldn’t have lasted more than a few minutes. She had had to move quickly to evacuate the ship, but she had a good crew and they reacted almost as quickly as she did.  Shepard remembered that Kaidan had tried… had tried to stay with her. Her mind reeled for a split second from the possibility of his death before recalling that she ordered him off the ship. She remembered saying the words, remembered watching him go. He was wearing armor and a breather helmet- she couldn’t see his eyes, but she had felt their intensity in the moment of hesitation before he obeyed. He got off the ship. He survived.

 The others had, too. She had seen them by the evacuation pods. Garrus, Tali, Wrex, Liara, the Doctor- they survived. _No,_ she corrected, _Wrex was already back on Tuchanka_... Joker was the one she went back for. Joker loved that ship and had she not physically removed him, he would absolutely have gone down with it.

 It was all so clear in her mind now. Shepard could feel the weight of her pilot leaning against her as she helped him into the last pod. She could see the orange of the fire around her and hear the wailing of the ship’s alarms. She remembered pushing him into the pod as the ship gave a violent shake and one final beam screamed through the heart of the Normandy.

 Joker cried out for her. She punched the button for the pod to close and in that moment everything around her let go. There was a massive explosion from somewhere that sent her from the carcass of the ship. She was tumbling, spinning, loose in space, contorting her body wildly to try to miss the jagged bits of debris coming at her. She had started to twist about, looking for some place to go when she heard it- that horrible hissing. It was her oxygen; something had nicked her suit. She had grabbed at her back, trying in vain to find and cover the hole. The cold of space was inside her suit. In a moment she was shuddering, gasping, sweating.

  _They’re safe,_ she had told herself, her mind struggling to stay calm against the maddened urges of her body.

 _They’re safe._ It had been her refrain. Her very throat had seemed to collapse in on itself.

 _They’re safe._ Through her darkening eyes she had made out a planet below. She had been on its dark side but could see, stepping out over its horizon, the brilliant glare of its sun. It was blinding, but then in an instant it faded to black. She saw nothing else.

_He’s safe._

She remembered that thought and knew somehow that after thinking it there had been no more. She had been spaced, hovering above a planet with a hole in her suit. She couldn’t have survived that. She didn’t. She died. She _died._

 With that realization her body jolted involuntarily and forced her to take a large, desperate gasp of air.

  _“Shepard,”_ Miranda leaned forward and gripped her forcefully by the knee. It grounded her instantly and she felt her body start to relax back into her plush, cushioned seat.

 “Are you alright?” Miranda was looking at her very intently and though there was concern in her voice, Shepard got the feeling that it was concern more for her science project than for another human being. All the same, she did feel better.

 “Yes,” she said with as much calm as she could muster.

 “Your body and your mind may react a little oddly to being woken up after two years. It should pass after a few days.” Miranda spoke slowly and clearly. After a moment she let go and leaned back into her own seat. Shepard regarded her for a moment. Miranda had a certain poise about her that, despite her obviously calculating nature, made her a calming presence. She suspected Miranda made a decent leader.

 She noticed then that Jacob was also watching her, with a somewhat bewildered look on his face. Shepard rebuked herself silently; she wasn’t in the habit of having outbursts, especially not around subordinates.

 "Where are we going?” she asked him and was relieved to see that her calm tone took the look off his face.

 “The Illusive Man wants to talk to you.”

 She nodded and looked away out the window again, out into the blackness of space. Out of habit her hand wandered to her neck, looking to play with the chain of her dog tags. They weren’t there.

 “Ah, we managed to recover those,” Jacob spoke up and reached into a pocket on his chest. The tags clinked together as he pulled them out and he deposited them in her hand. “They got beat up pretty bad, but they were a hell of a lot easier to fix than you.”

 “Thanks,” Shepard said smiling down at the familiar fragments of an apparently old life. She could tell the chain had been replaced. The tags themselves were still slightly dented and a bit scratched up, but then so was she. She ran her thumb over the inscription.

 

Shepard, Johanna M.

5923-AC-2826

N7-SPCTR

 

She slid the chain over her head and tucked the tags under the shirt. It felt good to have them there. She folded her arms over her chest and looked back out the window. It was all blackness and distance. Space felt very large in that moment. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply.

  _They’re safe,_ she told herself. _He’s safe._


	2. Johanna

To say that Johanna Shepard felt overwhelmed was an understatement. She was standing at the CIC of the Normandy SR-2 and looking over the Crew Deck of her new ship. Cerberus had rebuilt her and they had apparently had so much fun doing it that they decided not to stop there and to rebuild the Normandy as well. She couldn’t pretend that she wasn’t glad to see this replica of the old girl, but it was… different. There were the obvious changes: it was altogether larger and more comfortably built- even Joker had commented on that. Johanna smiled in the direction of the helm. She had almost started laughing when her old pilot limped up to her back at the Cerberus base. She hadn’t expected him, but there was certainly no one else she would rather have flying her around the galaxy. To be honest, she wasn’t altogether sure if they had rebuilt the Normandy to gain _her_ cooperation or _his_.

 Shepard felt a yawn coming on. Suppressing it as best she could, she looked down at the clock on her private terminal. She had been awake now for almost thirty hours- that is, it had been thirty hours since she had woken up on a medical table in the Cerberus Lab from a two year… what was she supposed to call it? Sleep? Coma? Those several months she had spent being dead? Regardless, she had been running on adrenaline ever since; it’s remarkable what learning that you’ve been dead for two years will do to you. It was only now that her body remembered that sleep was necessary at all. Still, she felt reluctant to indulge it.

 Surely there was something more to be done on the ship. As commander of the first Normandy there had always been some work that required her attention. She had already been around this new ship and talked to her new crew. Everywhere she went the people struck her as being very nice, very competent and very on top of their work. It was almost disappointing that she hadn’t been asked to give any manual assistantance. A few people had asked her for some odd and ends. Dr. Chakwas, the doctor from the SSV, was there and made a passing remark about some fancy brandy she missed having around. Chakwas had made it clear that she didn’t expect anything from Shepard, but the Commander was so happy for another familiar face that she was determined to brew the stuff herself if she couldn’t find it.

 That was it, though. This side of command, the part where you delegate all the little tasks, was the part that she didn’t like so much at the moment. When there was a mission to do she was perfectly happy to let her crew go about their business, but right now there was nothing for her do to and Johanna wanted desperately to be busy.

 “Commander, you look like you could use some rest.”

The voice brought Shepard back out of her thoughts. Kelly Chambers, the young woman assigned by Cerberus to act as an assistant of sorts to her, was standing across from her and looking at her warmly. Johanna had only known her for a few hours but she already felt at ease around her. It was hard not to like her; there was an inviting, easy going air to her. She seemed implicitly trustworthy, a quality that Shepard didn’t think she had ever encountered before. There were certainly those that she trusted, but none as quickly as Chambers. By Kelly’s own admission that was why she was selected for the crew.

 “No, I- I’m-” but as Shepard spoke she felt another yawn struggling its way up from her lungs. Despite a brief struggle, it forced its way up and cut through her sentence. Kelly smiled and raised an eyebrow.

 “You were saying, Commander?”

“I _might_ be a _little_ tired,” Shepard admitted, “but there’s work that needs my attention.”

 “I don’t want to seem out of line but there really isn’t, nothing that can’t wait. Your crew knows they’re doing.”

Shepard looked down at the datapad in her hand and flicked listlessly through her messages.  Kelly was right but something inside her didn’t want to acknowledge it. She needed to be busy.

 “Have you looked at the new Captain’s Cabin?” Kelly asked gently in a low voice, taking a step closer to Shepard.

“No,” Johanna replied haltingly. She wasn’t really reading anything on her datapad- she had already read all her messages twice. “I guess that’s the one part of the ship I hadn’t really got to yet.”

 “It’s nice- much larger, I’m told, than on the old Normandy. I think you’ll find it relaxing.”

Johanna sighed and glanced around her and knew that Chambers was right. Still, the last thing she wanted to do was rest. She wanted to storm a Geth base, or take down a Krogan Warlord, or find someone, anyone, who could tell her how she could get back those two years of her life that had been wasted. She wanted to find Kaidan.

“Actually,” Chambers was whispering conspiratorially now, “there is one thing you could do.” Shepard looked at her. “We need a course heading.”

 Johanna let out a laugh. “Yeah,” she said, rubbing her forehead and feeling a little stupid, “yeah, I guess we do.”

 Kelly smiled and walked back to her station. “Take your time, Commander. You really should get some sleep, though.”

 Shepard walked up to the Galaxy Map and opened it. She recalled the first time she had ever operated one back on the first Normandy. Its beauty was breathtaking- all the splendor and color of the galaxy taken and shrunk down into a size that her eyes could take in at once. She had always loved this aspect of command and was happy to see that in two years they hadn’t developed a technology to replace it.

There were several points of interest marked on the map but it took her only a moment to lock in their destination. Anderson had sent her a message wondering if she was actually alive. He deserved an answer in person. Besides, if there was anyone she thought might tell her where Kaidan was, he was it.  They needed- no, _she_ needed to go to the Citadel.

 

 

 Johanna opened the door of the cabin and had to admit that she was pleasantly surprised. Gone was her small, stark room from the old Normandy. This room was altogether more livable. It struck her that this was the largest room she’d ever had to herself. As a kid growing up on a farm on Mindoir, her room was pretty small; her parents never did manage to pull in the kind cash crop they’d been hoping for. After the Batarian slavers raided her colony she’d spent two years in shared orphanage rooms before joining up with the Alliance when she turned eighteen. Then it had been a string of either shared barracks or tiny cell-like rooms. This room was huge and a sort of luxury she had never wasted time hoping for.

There was a large aquarium taking up the better part of a wall. She peered into it, tapping on the glass. It was empty, but she still liked the sort of blue light it emitted. She saw at the end of the room a very large, very comfortable looking bed.

 “Not quite yet…” Johanna muttered to herself uneasily and instead moved into the little office space.  There was a computer and a datapad with a note attached reading “DOSSIERS”. As she sat down at the desk and reached for the datapad something flickered in the corner of her eye. What she saw gave her pause. It was a digital picture frame.

 Slowly, Shepard picked it up and looked at the familiar face looking out at her. It was Kaidan. She glanced around the room, not knowing what she was looking for. Who had put it there? Who had known about them? Perhaps Joker or Dr. Chakwas had said something to someone?

 Cautiously, and delicately, she touched the face. Had the Illusive Man been telling the truth when he said they couldn’t hack his Alliance files to find his location? It had seemed odd at the time; Cerberus wasn’t exactly known for being unable to find information they wanted. So either the Alliance had developed new, un-hackable encryptions, or the Illusive Man didn’t want her consorting with Alliance personnel. True, several members of her new crew were former Alliance but they had all gladly joined Cerberus, and although Shepard was happy to see them there, but she knew that Kaidan would never leave the Alliance. He would undoubtedly see it as some sort of betrayal and she wasn’t sure that he was wrong.

So what was _she_ doing?

 She had spoken with the Illusive Man twice in the past thirty hours and she couldn’t say that her opinion of him now was that different from what it had been before. He was certainly ruthless and Shepard could tell that he had earned his reputation. She also knew, though, that what he wanted now was the same thing she wanted: to stop the Reapers. His acknowledgment of the Reaper situation had been enough to get her to listen to him. He believed in her abilities to the extreme, enough to resurrect both her and her ship. No, she didn’t trust him but she would work with him for as long as she needed. What she had heard so far about the actions of the Alliance and the Council since her death made her fairly sure that they wouldn’t be offering her any assistance. She needed help. Her relationship with Cerberus, it seemed, might have to be a long one; what she had seen on Freedom’s Progress had made it a necessity.

 Placing the frame back on the desk, Shepard pulled her hair out of a bun and sat there, running her hands through it, thinking. She’d never seen anything quite like Freedom’s Progress. Everyone was just… _gone._ There had been cups of coffee, only partially consumed, sitting next to open books. She even saw one shower that had been left running. The people had been taken in the middle of their daily routines. She had been expecting to see those things, as eerie as they were, because Cerberus had briefed her on them. What she was not expecting was the unit of Quarians.

 She grinned slightly and pulled her hair together, reforming the bun. It had been good to see Tali, even if it had been under very regrettable circumstances. They didn’t get much of a chance to talk; Tali was there to retrieve one of her people. Shepard was happy to offer her assistance and they did get a lot of useful information from the Quarian on pilgrimage’s omnitool. She wished Tali could have come with her but the Quarian had her own responsibilities now. Two years… the galaxy had been moving for those two years that she had been still. Things had changed and Shepard knew that she would have to accept that but it was hard when your yesterday was everyone else’s yesteryear…

 Johanna chided herself. It wasn’t like her to indulge in self-pity or to sulk. She was an Alliance soldier and a Specter… or she had been. She had a job to do, and damn it, she had going to do it. She started to yawn but shook her head vigorously, trying to shake the sleep from her. She picked up the dossier datapad and started flipping through them. Salarian scientist... Human biotic convict… Krogan warlord… _Archangel_? Shepard tossed the dossiers aside and leaned back in her chair.

 “What a list,” she groaned, “combine them with an Ex-dead, Ex-Alliance, Ex-Specter and I’m sure the Reapers will be shaking in their boots.”

 She reclined her chair further and noted that, like the rest of the ship, it was surprisingly comfortable. There was a strange pattern on the ceiling of her room, a sort of swirling, waving, that reminded her of wind passing through a field of tall grass. She stared up at it and wondered at the weight she felt on her eyes. What was she going to do? Before there had been a focal point to her mission: stop Saren. Now there was just… the Collectors, a group whose identity was uncertain, whose point of origin was unsure, and whose goal was utterly unknown. Perhaps it was good, she thought as her eyes struggled to stay open, that she was working with the Illusive Man. He seemed so certain of his path. Perhaps she needed that. Perhaps...

 

 

_“Are you tired?” he asked her._

_"No,” she answered. Shepard’s head was lying on Kaidan’s chest. His skin was warm and soft and the gentle rise of his inhaling and fall of his exhales was the turn of the planets to her. “No, I’m not tired.”_

_Kaidan smiled down at her and brushed her cheek with his thumb. “It’s been a long day, Jo.”_

_"Yes, it has, but it’s over now.” Johanna took his hand in hers, and looked down at their interlocking fingers. He had such nice hands, such long, strong fingers. She felt Kaidan kiss her forehead._

_“Let’s go somewhere” he whispered. Shepard laughed._

_"Where should we go?”_

_“Oh, I don’t know. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere they’ve never heard of Reapers… Ever been to Ontario?”_

_"No, I haven’t, but if they haven’t heard of Reapers it sounds like a place I’d like to see,” she was smiling, basking in the warm feeling that was filling her body. Raising his hand to her mouth, she kissed it._

_“Jo?”_

_“Hm?” She loved it when he used that nickname._

_“Don’t make me leave.”_

_“What?” Shepard sat up. The ship was on fire around them._

_“Kaidan!” She looked back at him. They were on the Command Deck now. He was wearing his armor and his helmet hid his face._

_"Johanna,” he reached out to her._

_“_ Commander,” _a voice came through the burning ship’s speakers._

_“Kaidan!” she cried out to him._

“Commander.” _Johanna turned around, looking for the voice._

_"I won’t leave,” she heard Kaidan’s voice again behind her and she spun around to look at him.  He wasn’t there._

_"KAIDAN!” She couldn’t find him. The ship shook beneath her. She looked down and the floor boards were ripping apart. “KAIDAN!”_

_“_ Commander. _”_

_The ship ripped in half and there she was, out in space, spinning. She screamed._

“Hey, Commander!”

 Johanna Shepard jerked forward out of her chair. Her heart was pounding as she looked around the room. The ship was intact and Kaidan…

 Joker huffed impatiently through the speaker.  Johanna took a moment to steady herself before pressing the intercom.

 “Sorry, Joker. I was just… getting some rest.”

 “Thought you’d want to know that we’ll be docking at the Citadel in twenty.”

 “Thanks,” she let the intercom button go and leaned back into the chair, glancing at the clock. She had been asleep for a few hours. It hadn’t been quite long enough to call it a sleep and not a nap, but she didn’t want to go back and get any more, not after that dream.

 Johanna put her face in her hands. She could feel her chest tighten and her breath catch in her throat, but just as quickly as the impulse to indulge her emotions came over her, she pushed them aside forcefully.

 “ _No,_ ” she commanded herself. Shepard got out of the chair and walked to the bathroom, turned on the faucet in the sink and splashed water over her face. She stared at herself in the mirror. Her old scars were gone, replaced by thinner, more numerous ones from her rebuilding. They should have made her feel like a new person, she supposed. They didn’t. They only reminded her how out of step with time she was.

 


	3. Johanna

“Miranda, secure the door. We’ll regroup here and head out in five. Garrus, sit down and let me take a look at that.”

The Turian obeyed, wincing slightly as he lowered himself onto a chair in the apparently abandoned house. He had been grazed by a blast from a Collector on the neck. It was nothing serious, superficial really, but the situation on Horizon was too unknown to take risks with even minor injuries.

“You’re fussing over nothing,” he muttered as Johanna looked more closely at the wound, “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, well, now you’re even _more_ fine.” The medi-gel went on smoothly and sealed up the wound.           

“Shepard, I think being dead has made you paranoid,” Garrus chuckled, rubbing the spot where he had been hit, “it was barely a scratch.”

Shepard herself was still having difficulty joking about her recent return, but she had found that others were not. Joker in particular had come up with more than a few quips on the subject- almost every time she saw him, actually. His favorite seemed to be shouting out “dead woman walking!” when she approached him in the cockpit. She supposed that this was simply their way of coping with her sudden reappearance and she had become used to these jabs.

“Hilarious,” she replied, turning to look around the house they were holed up in, “but if I were you I’d take up less time making jokes and more time realigning the sight on your rifle. I think it’s shifted in the past two years.” That shut Garrus up quickly enough. When it came to his prowess at a marksman Garrus had an ego the size of the Citadel. As she walked away he heard him huff indignantly and mutter, “ _realign my sight?_ Only if I can use your coffin for target practice… _”_

Truthfully, she was too glad to him back on her team to be annoyed with him. He had been on Omega shooting down mercs under the alias “Archangel” when she caught up with him. It had been one of the Illusive Man’s dossiers that had sent her there, though Cerberus had apparently no idea that Archangel was actually her former associate. Even if it had been inadvertent, Johanna supposed she owed them for that one.

Sitting down, Shepard removed her helmet and looked around the little house. It was one of those pre-fab units. Mass produced, cheap and easy to set up, they could be found in almost any Human colony. In the newer colonies they made up pretty much every building, but they were small and ugly so they were usually replaced as soon as the colonists could afford to do so. However, even on long established colonies they were still common with the poorer set. Growing up on Mindoir, Johanna and her parents had lived in one very similar to this one… No, that wasn’t exactly right. Looking around, she realized that this house was the exact same model. There weren’t exactly a multitude of models out there; the same fifteen were produced today as had been forty years ago, and all of those were pretty similar, but the realization still struck an odd note with her. It had been years since she’d been in a unit like this.

She stood and moved deeper into the house, looking around curiously. The walls were stark and the countertops were shiny; this unit hadn’t been lived in long. Their home, on the other hand, had been old when they moved in. There had never been extra money but the Shepards had made their unit into a home. Her parents, Joseph and Hannah had married young but did not start a family until much later. Johanna had been such a surprise that they were completely unaware she was coming at all until two months before her mother’s due date. When Johanna was born two weeks prematurely her parents still hadn’t decided on a name, so they stuck theirs together and called it a day. Their lives were not easy, farming always required a good deal of physical labour, but they were happy. All the walls had been covered with pictures of friends and family or Johanna’s drawings. Her parents had always delighted in her creations and as a child she was quite prolific, but she’d stopped drawing after-

Her train of thought cut itself off. It had been years since she’d allowed herself to actually think about the event that had robbed her of her family, home, and childhood. It had taken years but she had trained her mind to avoid the topic, so instead she sat down on a chair in the little nook that, in another place and time, had been her bedroom and began to clean her weapon.

 _The mission,_ her mind insisted, _the mission._ When the Illusive Man had briefed her he mentioned almost casually that Kaidan had been posted to the colony. She did not doubt that he knew about the nature of their relationship. He had been unwilling to provide her with information on his whereabouts in their first encounters. This was the first time since she’d been brought back that Shepard had any solid information about him. Even Anderson, a man who she had served under for years and trusted with her life, had looked away and mumbled something about classified information when she’d asked him on the Citadel. Neither side trusted her: Cerberus didn’t trust her emotional stability, and the Alliance didn’t trust her loyalty. So for the Illusive Man to bring him up now, to take her to his last known location, meant that the situation here had to be important enough for them to risk an encounter between the two.

Things on Horizon were clearly dire; the only living creatures they’d encountered had been the Collectors and their husks, but she wasn’t exactly sure they were quite _alive._ She was troubled that they hadn’t seen any signs of Kaidan, but he was a soldier and a powerful biotic and she had seen him in battle many times since New Eden. She didn’t believe that he had been taken; he was probably lying low or holed up somewhere, but if he _had_ been taken, a scenario she was loathe to consider, then the situation was more dangerous than she already feared.

“Shepard?” Miranda shouted back at her. “We should be moving.”

“Right,” Shepard stood and headed back into the main room, removing a spent thermal clip from her shotgun as she went. “We need to find the access panel for the defense towers. Keep an eye out for survivors.”

“I don’t think we’re going to find any,” Miranda tossed her a new thermal clip, which Johanna clicked into place.

“Keeping an eye out won’t cost us any extra time. I’m not leaving behind anyone we can help.”

Miranda frowned but didn’t argue. Shepard found her devotion to her objective admirable- how could she not? She’d been the one tasked with rebuilding her. It was her unwillingness to compromise that Johanna questioned, but for now Miranda accepted her leadership and preformed her duties with remarkable efficiency.       

“Alright,” Johanna continued, “we need to push on to the defensive towers and get them online.”

“And Kaidan?” asked Garrus.

“If he’s still here, that’s where he’ll be. Move out.”

 

 

Soldiering was easy for Johanna, it came naturally to her, even against the Collectors. She’d learned long ago that anything could be downed with a few well placed rounds. She didn’t bat an eye at the husk that leaped out from behind a crate and grabbed at her with long, bony fingers, she only fired point blank into its face. The bits of flesh that fell on her cheek didn’t bother her. So she could say with complete honesty that the only time in almost twenty years of military service that she ever lost her nerve was when, a minute after she dispatched the husk, she followed a Collector out of a building and onto a landing. She had wounded the creature severely and knew that another blast from her gun would finish it off. It wasn’t the sight of a Collector charging her that sent a shock through her entire body. It was the colonist in front of her, a woman frozen by the Collector swarms, and the look of abject terror that was contorting her face.

It was a look that she had seen before, just once, back on Mindoir and in an instant her mind snapped back there.

_Screams were filling the air, screams of people she had known all her life. Smoke streamed in through the windows, filling her lungs and stinging her eyes. The fields were on fire, the blaze of golden wheat that had been set by a squad of Batarian slavers. Her dad was pushing tables and chairs in front of the door, trying to create a barricade, and her mom was rushing to the windows, trying to fan out the smoke as she closed them. Johanna, sixteen years old, stood in the middle of the room, pleading with her parents._

_“We have to help them!” she cried, “They’re dying!”_

_“No,” her Father’s voice shook almost as much as his hands did, but he kept piling more furniture by the door. “No.”_

_She knew the voices she heard, recognized the screams of her neighbors and friends._

_“Please!” she grabbed her mother’s arm, “Mom! We can’t just stay in here. They’re dying!”_

_“Johanna-” her mother started pitfully, trying to move away to help her father._

_“We have to help!” she pulled harder on Hannah Shepard’s arm._

_“Johanna!” her mother grabbed her firmly by the shoulders. “You can’t save everyone!”_

_At that moment there came loud bangs at the door. The Batarians were trying to get in. Her dad jumped away from the door and grabbed an old shovel he’d brought in from the fields. “G-get behind me,” he stuttered, positioning himself between his family and the door._

_“Joseph-” her mother was interrupted by a blasting noise as the locking mechanism of their door was shot away by two slavers who were now pushing aside the flimsy furniture and entering the home. Joseph Shepard let out some sort of strangled yell and stepped forward, raising the shovel menacingly, but one of the Batarians simply shot him in the gut. The shovel fell out of his hands and he crumpled to the floor._

_Hannah Shepard screamed and ran at the Batarian who had shot her husband. Johanna noticed then that her mother was holding a kitchen knife. Her speed apparently surprised the alien, who didn’t swing his gun in her direction quickly enough to stop her from plunging the knife into his neck. Blood sprayed out and the Batarian let out a scream that turned into a gurgle as its throat filled with blood. Now unarmed, Hannah backed away from her dying victim and then turned to look back at her daughter, who had not moved from where she stood._

_Everything was happening so quickly in front of her and yet so slowly. Although her mother stood staring at her for what seemed like an hour, it was hardly a moment before the second Batarian came up behind the woman, grabbed her by the throat with one hand, and with the other pushed his gun into her back and pulled the trigger. It was then that a look flashed across Hannah Shepard’s face, a look of pure, unbridled terror, and burned itself forever into the mind of her child._

_The Batarian let the body fall to the floor. Johanna didn’t move as the Batarian walked cautiously up to her; she didn’t even look at him. She was still looking at her mother’s face. All the life had left the eyes, but they still looked at her and the look- that look- was still present._

_The Batarian seized Johanna by the hair and forced her down to her knees easily. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from Hannah’s, but she was starting to regain awareness of the other things happening around her. She could smell the Batarian, he reeked of smoke and blood, and he was speaking into a radio._

_“No, only one left here… a girl, weak… None of these farmers are worth much… Alliance patrol? Shit… Alright, I’ll finish up here and take the last shuttle up. What a waste of time.”_

FOCUS, _her mind roared and her eyes snapped away from her mother and up to the Batarian slaver. He did not have his guard up. There was a pistol on his hip next to her face. Without a second thought her hand lashed out, pulled out the gun and unloaded it in her captor’s chest. He never had time to react. She jumped to her feet and ran from her home, stepping over her parents’ bodies as she did. Johanna did not look at them again._

_Everything was fire and smoke outside and she could not see, but her feet brought her the short distance to the middle of the colony. There were bodies strewn everywhere, all crudely executed, but she did not look at them. Her eyes zeroed in on four alien figures some fifty yards away. She raised her pistol and started walking towards them._

BANG.

_The closest one cried out and clutched his stomach. The other three stared at him in shock, apparently not thinking to look for the source of their companion’s demise._

BANG.

_A second Batarian fell, this one shot through the head. The other two finally began to look around them. One of them had just seen her when-_

BANG.

_He, too, fell. She was close now. The last Batarian fumbled for the rifle slung around his back. Johanna aimed the pistol between its four eyes._

Click.

_The pistol was empty. Johanna stopped in her tracks. She hadn’t thought to look for more thermal clips, but then she’d never touched a gun before. It never occurred to her that it would run out of ammunition. A nasty grin spread across the Batarian’s face as he realized her predicament. Slowly now he almost strolled towards her, cocking his rifle as he went._

_Johanna’s eyes searched around her wildly for something, anything to use. There was nothing. She stayed where she stood, her empty gun still raised at the approaching slaver._

_Then a volley of shots came from behind the Batarian and as he fell she saw three humans in Alliance uniforms. She stood frozen. The soldiers lowered their weapons and walked up to her, regarding her with surprise. The one in front, a man with dark skin and kind eyes, slowly reached up his hand to take the pistol from her. She lowered her now empty hand but said nothing. “N7” was embroidered on his uniform, along with a name, “Anderson”._

_He opened his mouth to speak._

“SHEPARD,” but it was Garrus shouting at her now, shaking her, intense concern masking his face. She only looked back at him for a moment before pushing him aside and blasting the head off a husk that had been running up behind the Turian. Looking around she saw that Garrus had killed the Collector and that Miranda was some two hundred feet away, dispatching another group of husks with ease. She hadn’t seen Johanna’s… momentary loss of control.

Garrus grabbed her arm.

“ _Shepard._ What was that?”

“Not now.” She pulled her arms from his grasp and calmly swapped out her shotgun for her assault rifle. “Can we do anything for the Colonist?” She didn’t look at the colonist when she spoke, instead looking across the clearing to Miranda, who was now walking over.

“No,” Garrus answered in a voice too low for Miranda to hear, “there are some others like her in the other buildings around here. They don’t seem to have been collected yet, but the Collector swarms have them in some sort of stasis. We can’t do anything for them until we’ve at least activated the towers. But Shepard, there _are_ more. Are you going to be-”

“Yes,” Johanna cut him off sharply and started towards Miranda. “We should be close to the towers. Let’s get moving.”

 

 

The colonist was yelling at her. He was angry, rebuking her for not having done more to save the others that had been taken away by the Collectors before she and her team had reached the towers and driven off the Collector ship. She was hardly listening to him, though. She was so tired, so drained emotionally that her physical energy was paying a price as well. She couldn’t deal with him just now. She still had to double back over the colony and make sure it was clear, and find someone to take a look at the remaining frozen colonists, and-

“Half the colony’s in there!” he screamed at her, “they took Egan and Sam and Lilith! Do something!”

“I’m sorry,” Johanna mumbled, “I did what I could.” She wished he’d lower his voice, let her leave and deal with the massive sense of failure that was flooding her.

“You did more than most, Shepard.” Garrus said quietly. Part of her was glad of his presence, but most of her regretted that she had come apart in front of him. It was unprofessional and she hated herself for it.

“Shepard?” the man was speaking again. “I know that name.”

She braced herself for what was coming. She knew that much of the galaxy had not viewed her sudden return with happiness, but with suspicion and resentment. She was ready for one more stranger to accuse her of disloyalty and careless bravado. She was _not_ ready for the low, soft voice that came instead from a man in an Alliance uniform. She was not ready for the way his arms wrapped around her or the hurt expression in his eyes. She was not ready for the way the accusations came from someone so familiar and she wasn’t ready for the way he walked away from her.

She was not ready for Kaidan.


	4. Garrus

Garrus didn’t say a word; he _wanted_ to say something but couldn’t think of what. He didn’t pretend to understand Humanity but he did find that their emotions were mercifully easy to read. Their feelings, no matter how deeply they ran, always spilled over, oceans that were never contained. The human female next to him on the shuttle was silent as well, but her distraught was clear to him. He sat with his arms crossed, leaning back against the wall, watching the human, Shepard, out of the corner of his eye. Her face was blank, but the strained tendons in her neck betrayed her.

Miranda had moved into the front of the shuttle with the pilot. The only words Shepard had said since Kaidan walked away were to ask her to make arrangements to help the colonists left on Horizon. Garrus was glad Miranda had left them. She was competent enough but she was Cerberus and he didn’t trust her for a moment. He didn’t want her to see Shepard like this- he didn’t want _anyone_ to see Shepard like this.

He had never wondered about what was going through a human head before. There had been plenty of times he hadn’t understood their logic, not that he had ever cared to, but what had happened to Shepard down on Horizon had scared him and he wanted now to understand it. She had always seemed like a force of nature- unstoppable, powerful, but easily explained. He had never considered Humans to be creatures of much complexity. Humans nature was to be entirely too selfish or entirely too selfless. Garrus had once been satisfied that Shepard was simply one of the selfless ones, fueled only by the desire to be a good soldier. But now he had seen her falter in the head of battle, seen terror flash across her face and lose all sense as to where she was. She’d brushed it off quickly enough, ignored it afterwards, but he had seen it all the same. Now here she was, silent and inside her mind once again and now Garrus knew that his simple explanation was insufficient. Experienced soldiers like Shepard didn’t just lose it like that without a good reason.

And then there was Kaidan. It didn’t bother him that Kaidan had questioned his motives in working with Cerberus- he had been among the scum of Omega too long to be bothered by such things- but Shepard? Part of him had wanted to punch Kaidan when he turned and left… but he knew better. Garrus had been there, after all, more than two years ago when Kaidan learned about what happened to Shepard. He hadn’t accepted it, insisted that she couldn’t be dead. They had all wanted refused to be believe the awful truth at first, but one by one, they all came to terms with it in a few days. Not Kaidan, though. His refusal to acknowledge the evidence became almost fanatical- almost maddened. It was a solid two weeks before Garrus and Liara decided to sit him down and make him face the facts. The Turian had told himself it was for his own good but… he had never seen anyone, not of any species, look so physically broken. Kaidan had sort of collapsed into himself and didn’t make a sound for such a long time that it had unnerved him.

The crew was breaking apart by then but he and Liara stayed with him. After a few days, though, Admiral Hackett ordered Kaidan away. Liara had thought it cruel- too soon to ask him to return to active duty- but Garrus knew work was the only thing that could save him from himself. He’d tried to stay in contact after that but… well, he had to admit that he didn’t try hard enough. They hadn’t spoken in well over a year and a half. From what he’d heard, though, Kaidan had thrown himself into every suicide mission that came his way.

So much had happened since Shepard disappeared, so much had changed, but Garrus had still leapt at the opportunity to join her. But Kaidan, Kaidan who had loved her, who stilled loved her- that much was evident from the way he had embraced her- had turned away. The complexities of Humanity were increasing by the minute.

Shifting in his seat, he opened his mouth and then shut it abruptly. What could he say? How could he ask about the incident with the colonist? How could he explain to her about Kaidan’s pain and how that had made him lash out, made him turn his back on them? Would that even make it easier? Garrus fidgeted again.

“Shepard,” he started with a sigh, but was interrupted.

“ _Please,_ ” was all she said, her voice choked with emotion. Garrus stared at his commander and realized that there _was_ nothing to say, nothing he could do, and how upset that made him in turn. Turians were not known for their sentimentality; it was a concept that Palaven actively suppressed. What was it in these humans that made him so concerned with their well being?

Miranda walked back into the cabin and handed a data pad to Shepard.

“Commander, I’ve arranged for the remaining colonists to be treated by a Cerberus scientific team. I’ve also contacted the Alliance and they’re on route to the planet.”

Shepard sat up and read through the report carefully. As she did, Miranda looked up and made eye contact with Garrus. It was brief, but he could see an understanding there that he had not expected.

“Thank you, Ms. Lawson,” Johanna handed the data pad back. “Please keep me updated on the situation and let me know when the Alliance arrives”

“Of course, Commander.” Miranda sat down across from Shepard and the three sat there in silence until they reached the Normandy. They both stood aside and let Shepard off first. She moved slowly and was clearly still deep in thought. They weren’t onboard the Normandy for five seconds, though, before Joker came on over the speaker.

“The Illusive Man wants you at the holo-conference.”

“He can wait, tell him she’ll contact him later-,” Garrus said, trying to answer before Shepard could respond, but held up a hand to stop him.

“I will see him now.”

“Patching you through, Commander,” Joker responded and the speaker went silent.

“Shepard, you don’t have to-” Garrus stepped closer to Shepard and spoke quietly.

“It’s okay, Garrus.” She was looking up at him and the look on her face made Garrus recall the way that, as a child, his little sister had looked up at him.

 

 

Calibration is an art, a fact that most people don’t know. Minor adjustments can make astronomical differences when it comes to machines and constant reappraisal is required. On a ship like the Normandy there were a thousand things that needed his attention. There was something pleasing about it, though, combing through numbers and turning dials ever so slightly, something calming. It was almost meditation to him.

So after Horizon, he had gone immediately down to the Main Battery and began going through his checklists. He was so absorbed in his work that he did not notice the passing of the hours and when the door opened he didn’t hear.

“Garrus?”

He jumped and turned around. Johanna was leaning against the closed door. Her armor had been replaced by civilian clothes, or Shepard’s version of civilian clothes. It looked more like one of the outfits worn by Cerberus scientists. He realized that she probably didn’t own any clothes, or anything much at all, that wasn’t issued to her by Cerberus. She looked tired.

“Shepard, what, um, what can I do for you?”

She didn’t answer for a minute, but stared intently at the floor and chewed her bottom lip, her brow furrowed. When she finally spoke, it was in a very quiet voice. “I was… I was wondering if you needed any help.”

“Oh.” Garrus was caught off guard by the request. He’d never been offered any assistance on either this or the previous Normandy, and had certainly never needed any. “Well, I don’t-”

“I just don’t really have-” she blurted out and then stopped, still looking at the floor. A moment later she pushed herself off the door and slowly walked over to his work bench. It was messy, with weapons and various instruments strewn across it. Shepard looked at them but didn’t touch anything. Finally, she raised her eyes up to his and said in a clear voice, “I need to be busy right now.”

“Of course,” Garrus answered, wanting to kick himself for not guessing the reasoning behind her appearance. “Actually, I could use a second opinion on the forward canons.” He motioned for her to come forward and look at the consol he was standing by. She came and stood next to him. “I’m not satisfied that they’re firing as quickly as they could.”

She nodded and the two of them went through the logs, speaking seldom and standing close.


	5. Kaidan

 

> _Dear Kaidan,_
> 
> _I really enjoyed our date the other night. I know you said that you had to leave on a mission, but send me a line when you get back and we could maybe go out again? I know this great little sushi place on the Citadel, if you like that sort of thing. Hope your mission is going well!_
> 
> _Stay safe,_
> 
> _Kirsten_

 

The message had been sitting in his mailbox for a week. Kaidan had read it a few times but hadn’t taken the time to answer it yet. It was far from the front of his mind and it was only because he was sorting through an overcrowded inbox that he was looking at it again now. _Later,_ he told himself and closed it again.

Everything had been sort of a whirlwind in the week and a half since the Collectors had raided Horizon. He had been removed from the planet not long after Alliance backup had arrived and was ordered to report for duty back on Earth. Alliance brass seemed to be contacting him every half hour to discuss the report of his run in with the aliens and with Cerberus. There were no fewer than fifteen new messages today on the subject in his box.  

He was sitting in a small side longue area in the Alliance Military Headquarters in Vancouver. Though he had gotten used to the constant requests for information about Horizon, it had come as a genuine surprise when he was ordered to report in person to Admiral Hackett himself. He’d met the man just once before, very briefly, but he was familiar with his character. Hackett had a reputation for being one of the hardest working and busiest Humans alive. Rumor had it that he never took more than a few hours vacation and that even his hobbies were only the parts of his job he found enjoyable. People liked to say that nothing happened in the military that Hackett didn’t know about. That he was taking the time to be briefed in person spoke to the immense gravity of what had happened in Horizon.

Kaidan glanced at a silver clock on the wall. He’d been instructed to wait in the side room for Hackett, who would meet him at precisely 10:25 a.m. There were still ten minutes before he could expect the Admiral, so Kaidan looked back down at his data pad and opened a partially written message addressed to Johanna Shepard. Truthfully, it had been written and deleted several times. The problem was that he simply didn’t know what to say; it didn’t even have a heading.

He had been turning over the conversation he’d had with Johanna constantly since the very moment it had ended. It was on a loop in his head and the pangs of regret were constant. Still, he wasn’t entirely sure he was in the wrong; after all, what _was_ she doing with Cerberus? What did Cerberus want with Horizon? Why hadn’tshe contacted him? _Why hadn’t she contacted him?_ That was the question that had been robbing him of sleep. His life since the Normandy was destroyed had been a hell and those first few weeks without her… just the memory of that pain made his heart feel like it was inverting.       

“Well, look who it is.” Kaidan looked up and saw that the voice came from a friend of his. Lieutenant David Wu was settling himself into a chair across from Alenko. He and Kaidan had gone through basic together way back when but had lost touch until they were both sent on the same assignment about a year ago. They had become fairly close for a while, but recently the friendship had become tense. David had what was called a “strong personality”. He had been the one, after all, who had insisted that Kaidan start dating again. There had been a time when Kaidan would have been happy to see him; however the sight of his friend just now made his stomach lurch.

“David, hi. How, um,” he said with forced enthusiasm. “I didn’t know you were in town.”

“I’m on leave. I’ve got family an hour north of here, but when someone told me you’d been stationed here I decided to pop down.”

“I’m glad you came,” trying to avoid having a conversation with the lieutenant, “but I can’t really talk just now-”

“I never heard how your date with Kirsten went,” David interrupted. He had a particular talent for not letting people finish their sentences.

Kaidan squirmed in his seat and flicked off his datapad. Wu had always been pushy. During the past two years that confidence had helped Kaidan find his footing again, but now…

“Really? I thought she would have told you.”

“She did,” David said with a smirk, “but I want to hear it from you.”

“Uh, it was okay… it was fine” he mumbled, truly not wanting to discuss this.

“Are you going to see her again?”

“Well, I’m pretty busy here. I’ve been called in to-”

“Oh, she’s always coming over planet-side. I’m sure it would be easy to arrange,” David asserted undeterred.

“Hey, we can go get a drink somewhere later if you want-”

“I heard about Horizon.”

Kaidan frowned. Although David worked in Intelligence he was not known for his subtly. He should have known better than to bring up the mission in public, even in an Alliance building. It wasn’t confidential, but it was far from public knowledge at the moment.

“I can’t discuss-”

“I’ve seen the brief. I’m sorry about the colonists.” David’s tone was very matter-of-fact with little actual sympathy. Kaidan sensed he was just fulfilling formalities on route to his real reason for coming.

“Thanks,” he mumbled in reply, dreading what was coming. He could only pray that the obvious discomfort he was exuding would dissuade David from his purpose, but he knew it was an unrealistic hope.

“You saw her.”

Kaidan flinched inwardly. Wu didn’t like Johanna, didn’t like the moniker of “hero” that everyone applied to her. He sometimes suspected that David had only stuck around with him because of his association with her, because he had become walking, talking proof of the sort of damage she could do.

“Yes,” Kaidan answered. 

“And you’re sure it’s her?”

“Yeah… pretty sure.” He paused for a moment, thinking about how he’d embraced Shepard before everything… before they’d started arguing. It was such a strange moment. The entire planet seemed to turn upside-down when he saw her, everything and everyone went out of focus- except her. She had been exactly as he’d remembered and yet, at the same time, oddly different. Her skin had been so warm and had that same faint but sweet smell that she’d always managed to somehow keep even in battle. But the scar that had vivisected her right eyebrow was gone and replaced instead with tiny lines that traced her face. She felt simultaneously unchanged and yet… new. It had been her, though. He would have known her anywhere.  “Yes, I’m sure.”

“Fuck,” David said slowly and rubbed his chin in thought. He was watching his friend’s face carefully and it made Kaidan uncomfortable.

“Hey, I’d really rather not talk about this-” Kaidan tried to change the subject again but was cut off again.

“She’s with Cerberus?”

“Yeah, I guess... I mean, they were there, too, but it didn’t really seem like…”

“So, the great Commander Johanna Shepard is working with terrorists now?” There was a distinct note of glee in David’s voice and it bothered Kaidan immensely.

 “I mean, if she’s working with them there was to be a good reason.”

“Are you kidding?” David asked incredulously.

“I know Shepard and-”

“No, you _knew_ her. And then she died- although,” David leaned back in his chair and chuckled to himself, “apparently not.”

“She said that Cerberus rescued-”

“I don’t believe this.”

“What?” Kaidan asked, growing increasingly annoyed.

“You’re defending her.”

“No, I’m just saying that-”

“You are. She leaves you high and dry, fakes her death, and then pops back up out of the blue after two years-” Wu’s tone was growing mean and accusatory.

“I don’t think she faked her death. Whatever shape Cerberus found her in must have been pretty bad-”

“After _two years_ and you’re defending that _bitch_.”

Kaidan stood up quickly, the datapad falling off his lap.

“ _Don’t call her that,_ ” he growled.

“You’re still doing it!” David stood up as well, the look on his face something between disgust and mocking. “Why is she so important to you? You worked with her for what? A few months?”

“She saved the Citadel, you know. Have you forgotten about that? She stopped the Geth _and_ the Reapers,” Kaidan said, trying to remain calm, but he could feel his pulse quickening.

“ _Bullshit_. Reapers? You can’t really believe that crap, can you?” David said dismissively. “Besides, you were there, too. Everyone always seems to forget that she had a crew backing her up and, from what I hear, they did most of the legwork.”

“You don’t-” Kaidan stammered, clenching his fists. “That’s ridiculous-”

“Here I have been trying to help you out-” David’s voice was growing louder.

“I know and don’t think that I’m not grateful-”

“- But you’re still too obsessed with the great ‘ _legend of Shepard’_ to see this for what it really is. It’s _pathetic_.”

“David, shut up,” Kaidan said through gritted teeth.

“You just can’t admit that she used you, can you?”

“ _Shut up._ ”

“I bet that bitch never even gave you a second thought after she fucked-”

“ _SHUT UP.”_ Kaidan’s biotics flared up and sent David flying back in a blaze of blue. He hit a wall and slide down to the floor.

“Stand down, Commander.” Kaidan turned his head to see Admiral Hackett standing alone in the doorway, having apparently opened it in time to see the argument reach its conclusion. The sight stayed his temper immediately and replaced it with a sick feeling. Wu didn’t outrank him but he had still been witnessed striking another officer in an Alliance building.

Hackett walked towards Kaidan, leaving the door open. He was looking at David now, who seemed to be alright despite the biotic blast, if a bit disoriented. He struggled to his feet and looked expectantly at the Admiral.

“You’re dismissed, Lt. Wu. Close the door behind you.”

Though surprised, Wu attempted a salute, but found his shoulder unwilling to comply. He started hobbling out of the room instead.

“And Lieutenant?” Hackett called after him. “I don’t want to hear that you’ve been talking about this incident. Or Shepard.”

Wu turned and opened his mouth to protest, but apparently sensed the futility of argument with an admiral, closed it wordlessly and left.

After David shut the door, Hackett settled into the chair Wu had formerly occupied. Kaidan remained standing at attention, expecting nothing short of a court martial.

“Have a seat,” the Admiral said with a sigh. Kaidan looked at him questioningly as he sat, surprised by the lack of reproach in his tone.

“Sir?”

“I heard what Wu said about Shepard. I don’t think we will need to pursue the issue, but Alenko,” his tone was stern but not angry; “You have to know that he isn’t going to be the last to say that the Commander is a traitor.”

“Yes, sir. I know. I- I’m not even sure she’s not one myself.”

“Really?” Hackett said with raised eyebrows. “You seemed pretty convinced a minute ago.”

“Yeah…” Kaidan looked down at his hands. Ever since Horizon all he had done was question Shepard and her motives, but when David had attacked her every single doubt in his mind vanished only to reappear now that his head had cleared. “I guess…” He looked back up at Hackett, who was watching him with an expression of patience. “Sir? Can I ask? Do you… you don’t think that she is a…”

“No,” the Admiral answered definitively.

“Why?” Kaidan leaned forward his chair, craving the Admiral’s answer.

“I have my reasons, Lieutenant, many of which I can’t discuss with you, but my reasons don’t matter. Alenko, you know her. You worked closely with her; she was your commanding officer. You need to decide for yourself.”

“Yes, sir.” Kaidan sighed. It would have been more comforting for the Admiral to disclose some secret assignment or correspondence but he knew that he was right.

“And Lieutenant,” Hackett lowered his voice, “I am aware of the nature of your relationship with Johanna Shepard.”

Kaidan looked down at the floor, suddenly embarrassed.

“You’re not doing anyone any favors by trying to get yourself killed with all of these risky missions. It has to stop.” Kaidan made himself look up at the Admiral and found his expression to be one of surprising understanding.

“I… yes, sir.”

“You’re a good soldier, more talented than I think you realize,” Hackett continued, “and I think you’ll make a good leader, too. Anderson has recommended you to head a new biotic unit, but we’ll talk more about that later.”

“Sir,” Kaidan nodded. He didn’t feel terrible, considering he had just been scolded by the head of the Alliance Navy. It did surprise him, though, that Hackett seemed so well acquainted with such intimate details about his officers. The Admiral was certainly living up to his reputation.

“Now, we need to get to business.” Hackett said, clearing his throat and opening a folder he’d been carrying. “I’ve read your report, but I do have a few questions for you…”


	6. Johanna

The coffee had gone cold in Johanna’s mug. It was no wonder; she’d been sitting there in the ship’s mess hall for some time now. Sighing, she swirled it around unhappily. The coffee had been old when she’d poured it into her mug in the first place, the last dregs left in the pot. The thought to make some herself did briefly cross her mind, but Commander Shepard, savior of the Citadel, was something of a klutz in the kitchen and a cup of poorly brewed coffee was not worth Mess Sergeant Gardner’s inevitable rage in the morning.

She had brought some work down from her cabin. As comfortable as it was up there, it sometimes felt too quiet and, she had to admit, lonely. She’d come down here to be around others for a bit, but now the mess was just as quiet as her cabin. No one around to offer her distraction, she returned to her work. She had a datapad and a notebook in front of her. Although some viewed it as an eccentricity, Johanna often found it helpful to write her notes down by hand and sort them out that way before she finalized them in her official log. Before it had just been a habit, but now it served some actual purpose: Cerberus couldn’t access her notebook remotely as she was sure they did her datapad.

 Her inbox was a constant stream of Cerberus reports, appeals for assistance and messages of thanks. Just keeping up with all the incoming information consumed a great deal of her time. Chambers was a help, of course, weeding out most of the unimportant tidbits. Johanna went through them now dutifully, taking notes on what she found useful, until she got to the bottom of the queue. Sitting there, as it had been for fifteen days, was an unopened message titled “About Horizon…” It was, of course, from Kaidan.

She couldn’t explain why she hadn’t read it. She’d spent a truly absurd about of time staring at it, ordering herself to either read it or delete it but _for god’s sake_ to just do something with it.

But she couldn’t read it. Angry at his rejection and mistrust, she didn’t _want_ any excuses.

And she couldn’t delete it. Hurt by his mistrust and rejection, she desperately wanted an explanation.

So both Johanna and the letter remained in purgatory.

“Still awake, Commander?”

Miranda had come out of her room wearing a white robe embroidered with the Cerberus emblem. Shepard wondered if she ever wore any clothes that weren’t Cerberus themed.

“Just catching up on some work,” she answered, closing her notebook. Miranda smiled.

“Relax, Shepard, I’m not interested in your scribbling.”

“Oh, no, it’s not that. I just…” Johanna started, embarrassed by her silly show of distrust, but her mouth caught on her words. With a sigh, she let her shoulders slump forward and she propped up her head on the table with her arm. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just tired.”     

“It _is_ late.” Miranda walked into the kitchenette and started to open a cabinet. “I was going to make myself a cup of tea, actually. Would you like one?” She held up a mug questioningly.

“I- sure. That sounds great. Thanks,” she answered, a little surprised by the offer. “I didn’t know Gardner kept tea around.”

“He doesn’t. This is my own special store. Top secret.” Miranda put some water on to boil.

Miranda’s attitude towards her had altered significantly since she had assisted in the rescue of Miranda’s sister, Oriana, from their notorious father. For someone who had made a life out of playing her cards close to her chest, Miranda had truly surprised Johanna by approaching her with the problem. It had obviously been hard for her to do and it spoke volumes about how concerned she was with her sister’s well-being.

Two hot cups of tea in her hands, Miranda walked over and sat down at the table and set a cup in front of Johanna.

“Thanks,” Shepard repeated and inhaled the steam rising from the black tea. It had a nice, spiced aroma.

“Not at all,” Miranda shook her head dismissively, “It’s the least I can do for you since you helped me with Oriana.” She paused. “Thanks again for that.”

“I was happy to help,” Shepard smiled and sipped the tea. It wasn’t like any tea she’d ever tasted before- but then, Johanna rarely drank anything besides coffee. This, however, made her reconsider that decision. “Mm, that’s really nice.”

“It goes everywhere I go.”

“So,” Johanna said after a moment, “why are you up? You don’t normally stay up this late, do you?”

“No,” Miranda answered slowly, “I’ve just been… thinking. I got a message from Ori. She was telling me about her new school. About boys. It all sounded so… ordinary? Not in a bad way. It made me wonder if my life could have ever been like that. If, you know, my father hadn’t been a maniacal control freak.”

“Wishing you’d gone to public high school?” Johanna asked with a smile.

“No,” she laughed, “No, it’s not that. I just… I guess neither of us really had a shot at a normal life,” Miranda said, taking a sip of her tea. “Well, I guess you sort of did… before the raid, I mean.”

“I never really thought about it,” Shepard said with a shrug.

“Really?”

“Always seemed pointless to think about what could have been.”

“You might have been a farmer,” Miranda teased. Shepard leaned back in her chair. This was the first time she’d seen Miranda really relax. She had come to respect the Miranda, the Cerberus officer, but this Miranda she genuinely liked.

“Pretty sure I would made a horrible farmer. I think I’m too good at killing things to be good at growing them. Strange to think that if things had gone differently I could be on Mindoir right now growing potatoes or something,” she joked.

“Well,” Miranda’s tone became pensive, “unless they hadn’t found anyone else to stop the Reapers.”        

Johanna looked down into the deep brown of her tea. As a soldier she had been trained to ignore the “what if’s”. Regretting the past didn’t stop the enemy, it didn’t save troops, and it didn’t finish missions. Live, learn, and move on. But now, on a Cerberus ship sipping tea with a Cerberus operative, she couldn’t help but turn the question over in her mind. Could the fate of the galaxy really rest upon something as small as which colony the Batarians had decided to raid some twenty years ago? What if things _had_ gone differently? What if the colony had been passed over? What if she had been able to save her parents? Would she have joined the Alliance? Would the Reapers have been stopped? Surely she wasn’t the only person in the galaxy who could have stopped the Reapers. If she had never joined the Alliance they would have selected someone else to become the first Human Spectre. Someone else would have captained the Normandy, commanded her crew, had their head filled with Prothean visions. She wanted to believe that someone else would have stepped up, to believe that the truth wasn’t as cruel as the possibility that, in order to save billions of lives, her parents needed to die.

“You can’t save everyone,” Johanna murmured into her cup.

“What was that?” Miranda said, rubbing her eyes sleepily.

“Hm?” Johanna looked up and left her thoughts behind. “Oh, nothing… just something my mother once told me.”


	7. Johanna

It wasn’t late, but it seemed like it. Johanna felt like she had entire planets weighing down her eyelids. Things had been moving so quickly lately that she hardly had a moment to catch her breath. She was grateful for this constant activity but it was beginning to take a toll. Her whole body felt worn down as though she’d been running constantly for years.

She’d promised herself- and Dr. Chakwas, who had cautioned her yesterday against stretching herself too thinly- an early night tonight. So there she was, in her cabin, standing over her bed. Bone tired though she was, she couldn’t make herself lay down. The load of work she needed to do was still firmly in the front of her mind, so she looked around the room for an excuse not to sleep. Her eyes settled on the clock. It was 6:58- not even 7 o’clock, yet.

“I’ll just finish up some reports first…” she said aloud to no one and settled herself in her workstation instead. Her computer flickered into life before her, a list of outstanding obligations already open. It was a long list; she had fallen behind with her reports. Had it just been the Collector related missions she could have coped, but she had recently agreed to several extra-curriculars.

Her squad had grown quite large in the past months and now totaled eleven. The Illusive Man’s dossiers had sent her to some of the most bizarre, fascinating, and dangerous people she had ever encountered. She hadn’t regretted taking any of them on, even those whose mental states she had reason to question. They had joined her freely but over time each had approached her with a request- unfinished business with which they needed help. She hadn’t turned any of them down, she’d been happy to help, but it was a lot of added work. Cerberus demanded updates on _all_ actions taken.

Johanna opened a new document and began a report on that morning’s mission.

>   _Location: Teltin Facility, Pragia_
> 
> _Time / Date: 0900 – 1237 / April 11, 2185_
> 
> _Crew: J. Shepard, Jack, Samara_

“Commander, your presence is requested at the mess-hall on the Crew Deck,” EDI’s mechanical voice came over the speakers.

“Not now, EDI,” she mumbled dismissively.

“It is important, Commander,” EDI continued.

“What happened?” Shepard asked, wondering if EDI could read the tone of annoyance in her voice.

“There is a malfunction with the lights.”

Johanna frowned at the unusual request.

“The _lights?_ ”

“They are not functioning.”

“Ask Garrus to look at them, EDI, he’s right there.”

“Garrus Vakarian is otherwise occupied, Commander.”

“Well, _so am I, EDI,”_ she snapped. Johanna couldn’t explain exactly why she was in such an irritable mood. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep, or the chiding messages from the Illusive Man, or the fact that she was being hunted by the Collectors that was preying on her mind. Maybe it was residual stress from having to take down a Thrasher Maw on foot a week ago or lingering annoyance at Zaeed and his little gas refinery incident _._ Who could really say?She rubbed her temples. “Ask Donnelley or Daniels to take a look.”

EDI responded with what sounded oddly like reluctance, “Yes, Shepard.”

Johanna shifted in her chair, cracked her knuckles and returned to her report.

“Okay,” she mumbled, positioning her fingers on the keyboard interface, “Report. Pragia. Okay.”

“Commander, Dr. Chakwas requests that you go to her office for a medical examination,” EDI’s voice came over the speaker again.

“I just had an exam the day before yesterday,” Shepard said, determined not to be distracted.

“There is irregularity with one of your implants.”

“Then I’ll go tomorrow.”

“The implant located on your seventh vertebrae had been recalled. It had been documented as being prone to spontaneous combustion and must be replaced.”

“No, it hasn’t, EDI.”

“Shall I forward the studies to you, Commander?”

Shepard glared at the speaker in her cabin.

“ _Sure,_ EDI, put them in my mailbox and I’ll look at them _tomorrow,”_ she looked back down at her report. “Unless, of course, I catch fire in my sleep.”

“I must advise against that-”

“ _EDI!_ ” Johanna shouted, her hands balling into fists. “Whatever business comes up, I am _sure_ it can wait until tomorrow. I just want to finish this report and go to bed, _okay_?”

“Yes, Commander.”

“ _Thank you._ ”

Johanna took a deep breath and began to type.

>   _Jack displayed understandable reluctance at onset of mission but-  
> _

“Commander, Garrus Vakarian requests assistance with calibrations on the Crew Deck.”

“EDI,” she asked firmly, “why are you trying to make me go to the Crew Deck?”

“I have already stated the purpose, Shepard.”

“I don’t think you have,” she said suspiciously.

“Will you assist Garrus?”

“No.”

>   - _upon seeing the inside of the facility_ -

 “Commander, Miss Lawson requests you come to the Crew Deck to discuss new information-”

“ _No._ ”

> _-became resolved to complete original mission-_

“Commander, Mr. Moreau has asked me to tell you that the toaster has exploded in his face and requests that you come to the Crew Deck to witness his last will and testament.”

“GOD _DAMN_ IT-”

Johanna roared before forcing herself to step back mentally. She closed her eyes and balled her hands into fists, forcing herself to take deep breath.

“ _Fine,_ ” she said in the calmest, least annoyed voice she could muster, “I will go to the _f-_ I will go to the _Crew Deck._ ” 

“Thank you, Commander.”

Johanna rose from her seat and grabbed a sweatshirt, pulling it over her head as she left the cabin, determined to put a stop to this nonsense as quickly as possible. She entered the elevator, smacked the button for the Crew Deck, muttering “He had better have fourth degree burns all over his face…” under her breath as she did.

The doors opened on the crew deck and Johanna was surprised to see that the lights _were_ off.

“Huh,” she said to herself, stepping off the lift and looking around. It was very quiet. With the lights off, the crew must have been in their quarters or on other decks. The only thing she could really see was the small trail of emergency lights on the floor so she followed it into the main area of the crew deck.

She was standing by the mess tables when she heard the shuffle of unseen feet. The wild possibilities of a mutiny or enemy agents onboard passed through her mind.

“ _EDI, what-_ ” she started to say before the lights flashed on all at once, blinding her. Startled, her hand flew to where her pistol would have normally been on her hip and-

**_“SURPRISE!”_ **

The crew of the Normandy was gathered in front of her, throwing handfuls of brightly colored confetti into the air. Before Johanna knew what was happening, they burst into a gusto-filled round of “Happy Birthday” _._ Johanna could even make out EDI’s voice singing along through the speakers. Behind them, hung from the ceiling, was a large banner reading “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, COMMANDER SHEPARD.”

 _Birthday?_ She thought, _it’s not my…_ Johanna remembered the report she had been working on and the date she had typed across the top. April 11th. She had forgotten her own birthday.

On the table in front of her was a large blue sheet cake decorated with little icing stars and planets and several pink candles. Johanna stood there, slack jawed, taking it all in, before Tali came up beside her and gave her a soft nudge towards the table.

“The candles, Shepard,” Tali whispered.

Still a bit dazed, she slowly stepped forward and blew out the candles. Everyone cheered. Joker, seated at the table, was laughing himself silly.

“You should see the look on your face,” he said between laughs, wiping tears away from his eyes. “I can’t- I can’t breathe!”

Johanna closed her mouth self-consciously.

“Did I see you reach for your pistol?” Garrus asked, laughing himself.

“That would be awkward, shooting all of your party guests,” Miranda joked.

“You know, there’s a reason people don’t normally throw surprise parties for people who have been in wars,” Johanna said, a smile slowly starting to pull at the corners of her mouth.

“Shit, I would have thought a girl scout like you would be all about surprise parties,” said Jack, brushing confetti off her inked shoulders.

“D’you know we’ve been waiting for you for twenty goddamn minutes?” growled Zaeed.

“I didn’t realize you were so excited for the party, Zaeed,” Tali said, moving aside to make way for Mess Sergeant Gardner, who came through and began slicing the cake.

“You kidding?” he responded, “They’ve got-”

“ICE CREAM!” Kelly Chambers shouted cheerily, pushing through the crowd holding a large tub which Zaeed eyed greedily. “Hope you like chocolate, Commander!”

“Perhaps you should take a seat, Shepard,” Samara said gently, “you still look shocked.”

Thane pulled out a chair next to Joker (who was still giggling) and motioned for her to sit.

“Are you alright, Commander?” he asked as she sat.

“Yeah, it’s just… it’s been awhile since I had a birthday party,” she said, looking down at the rather large slice of marble cake Gardner pushed towards her. There was a candle sticking out of it, which she pulled out tentatively.

“We weren’t sure how many candles to put in it,” Jacob said with a chuckle, “what with you having, er, _skipped_ two years.”

“ _Taylor!_ ” Chambers elbowed him in the gut as she leaned over the table and plopped a large scoop of ice cream on Shepard’s plate.

“It’s okay,” Johanna laughed and shook her head, finally starting to really relax into the situation.

“Come on, Shep, we can’t eat our cake until you take the first bite,” Kasumi said, her fork poised for the kill.

“Oops…” Grunt mumbled.

“Manner-less savage,” Zaeed chided.

Johanna sunk her fork into her cake and shoved a sizeable piece into her mouth. The crew cheered as their dived into their own slices, apart from Grunt, who was already halfway through his own, muttering something about having not been imprinted with Human customs in his tank.

“Well?” asked Gardner.

“It’s good,” Johanna attempted to say through a mouth full of cake, though it came out sounding more like “mm mmgd”. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had cake, and this one was light and moist- absolutely perfect.

There was a happy buzz as the crew enjoyed their deserts and chatted. EDI was playing some cheery music over the ship’s speakers. Johanna’s squad joined her at the table or stood nearby. They were soon all trying to one-up each other, apart from Thane, Samara, and Miranda, who stood to the side, silent and smiling.

“All I’m saying is,” Garrus said loudly, sitting on Johanna’s other side, “that while I was on Omega the crime rate-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Zaeed cut him off, “we know, it dropped. Big deal! When I was the _leader_ of the _Blue Suns-_ ”

“Do you have any idea how many Blue Suns I’ve killed?” Garrus boasted.

“Probably only _half_ as many as I have,” Jack said loudly.

“Exact numbers irrelevant. Should calculate ratios instead. Longer lived specimens have unfair statistical advantage otherwise-” Mordin started before being interrupted by Joker.

“Hey, just because I haven’t _killed_ anyone doesn’t mean I’m not the biggest badass here!” Joker said indignantly.

“Who cares about body counts at all? _Value_ is what matters,” asserted Kasumi.

“Two words,” Grunt shouted above them, “ _THRASHER. MAW._ ”

“Doesn’t count!” said Jacob, “Shepard helped you with that one!”

“Yes, it does!” Garrus snapped, “I was there, too!”

“Yeah, I guess that _would_ qualify as enough of a handicap,” Tali quipped, earning a glare from Garrus.

“All I know is I don’t hear any of _you_ being called the ‘hero of the Citadel’” Johanna said with a grin, happily eating her last spoonful of ice cream.

“I was there for that, _too!_ ” Garrus banged his spoon on the table. “But of _course_ the _Spectre_ gets all the glory!” He elbowed Johanna good naturedly.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough, everyone quiet down!” Kelly said, thumping on the table to get everyone’s attention. “Time for presents!”

“Presents?” Johanna asked as two large boxes were placed in front of her.

“Yes, Shepard. We _are_ having a party for you. Parties have presents,” Miranda said, placing a large stack of cards in front of her. Smiling, Johanna reached for the cards first.

“No!” Jack said, more loudly than she meant to, causing everyone to stop and look at her. She blushed. “Opening cards is boring. Open the presents first. Open the cards later… in private.”

“Okay…” Johanna said slowly, wondering what could possibly be in Jack’s card and a bit surprised that Jack had apparently made her a card at all. She didn’t really seem like the card type.

“Open this one first,” said Jacob, pushing one of the boxes towards her. It was wrapped in thick silver and black striped paper. Johanna took it in her hands and carefully un-wrapped the package, revealing a brown cardboard box that appeared to be full of packaging Styrofoam. Curious, she plunged her hands into the mess and felt cold, smooth metal. Slowly, she lifted the form out of the box. It was a perfect scale model of the Normandy SR-2.

“It’s beautiful,” Johanna said softly, running her fingers over the little ship’s painted name.

 “We thought it would go nicely with your collection,” Garrus said, grinning a large, toothy Turian grin.

“We had it made specially,” Thane said, placing his hand briefly on her shoulder.

“Yeah, you can’t just buy those,” Zaeed pointed out.

“Can’t just steal them, either,” Kasumi quietly added.

“Thank you,” Johanna said, truly touched, her eyes still glued to the gleaming figure in her hands. “I love it.”

“It’s from all of us who you have chosen for your squad,” said Samara, who, from the look on her face, was clearly pleased with how the model had come out as well.

“And me!” Joker whined, “I’m in your squad, too…ish”

“And Joker,” Samara agreed.

“Not _me._ ” Grunt spoke up. Johanna looked up at him and raised an eyebrow.

“No?”

“Nope.” His tone was oddly satisfied.

“Grunt had his… own ideas.” Miranda sighed. “Where _is_ your present, Grunt?”

Johanna noticed that he had both of his hands behind his back. The Krogan stepped- almost _skipped-_ around the table until he was standing next to Shepard. She looked up at him.

“Here!” he said, removing his hands from behind his back and stretching them out towards her. She looked down at his scaled claws to see a little ball of brown and white fur with two little black eyes.

“You got me a… hamster?” she asked, unable to keep from smiling.

“A _space_ hamster” he clarified. “They are Human pets.”

“We had to talk him down from getting you a varren,” Garrus explained quietly.

“She _liked_ that varren on Tuchanka,” Grunt growled, apparently still annoyed that the other crewmembers had vetoed his original idea.

“Ah,” Shepard said with a laugh, carefully taking the little critter out of Grunt’s hands. “Yes, I did, but I do think a varren might have been a bit of a…” she paused, looking for the right words, “I’m not sure they do well on ships.”

“Yeah, that’s what they said.” Grunted sounded a bit disappointed not to be presenting her with a snarling beast.

“I’ve always wanted a hamster, though, Grunt,” Johanna insisted. “Thank you. Does it have a name?”

“Yes, he does.” Grunt’s pleased demeanor picked up where it had left off.

“Well?” Kasumi asked from across the table.

“There was tradition on ancient Tuchanka,” Grunt explained, his chest puffing up, “that battle masters would name their beasts after great enemies they had killed.”

There was silence.

“So, what…? You named it ‘Thrasher Maw’?” Zaeed asked.

“No.”

“You _didn’t_ name it-” Tali began incredulously.

“ _Saren._ ”

Several crewmembers giggled. Joker let out something between a laugh and a choke. Miranda closed her eyes and shook her head. Johanna had never seen a Krogan look gleeful before.

“Saren, huh?” she said, raising the little critter up to her eye level. Saren squeaked. “I dunno, I don’t remember him being this fierce,” she laughed and looked around, not really sure what to do with the hamster now that she had him.

“Oh! That’s our present!” Kelly piped up, pushing the other box forward now. “The rest of the crew chipped in and got you terrarium to keep him in.”

As her hands were full, some other members of the crew un-wrapped it for Johanna and she placed Saren in his little home. He ran around exploring for a minute, delighting the crew, before retreating into a little hovel with a squeak.

“Thank you, everyone, really,” Johanna said, standing up and looking around at the people gathered around her, “this is really- I’m really-” She found herself at a loss for words and so simply concluded with “Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Joker waved a hand dismissively, “I think it’s time for champagne.”

“Absolutely!” agreed Engineer Donnelley in his thick Scottish brogue, he and Gabriella Daniels taking the opportunity to pop open two of the bottles Gardner was lining up on the kitchen counter. Several more bottles were opened, poured into glasses, and passed among the crew until everyone had one.

“To the Commander,” Miranda said, raising her glass, “happy birthday.” Around the room, everyone echoed “happy birthday” and raised their glasses.

“And to kicking some Collector ass!” Joker added enthusiastically, raising a cheer from the crew.

“I’ll drink to that,” Johanna smiled, taking a long sip.

 

The party lasted several more hours, even after every crumb of cake, spoonful of ice cream, and drop of champagne had been consumed. Johanna enjoyed the sounds of laughter and playful banter around her; it was a nice break from the stress of their mission. A few times that night she shut her eyes and just spent a moment enjoying the feeling of carelessness.

It was one in the morning before people really started to head off to bed, trickling away with a final “happy birthday, Commander”. Almost everyone had left when Dr. Chakwas came and sat down beside Johanna.

“You look surprisingly well for someone who has been awake for as long as you have,” she said kindly.

“You’re not going to lecture me, are you?” Johanna asked, smiling. “I _was_ going to go to bed early tonight.”

“Not at all. Relaxation is as important as rest, you know. I’d say this night has done everyone a world of good.”

“Whose idea was this, anyway?”

“It was EDI’s, actually.”

“Really?” Johanna said, surprised.

“Yes, she came up with it months ago. Put it on everyone’s schedules before sending us all messages and details. I think she’s been reading up on human behavior.”

“Oh, no,” Johanna sighed, rubbing her eyes sleepily.

“Hm?”

“I yelled at EDI a bit when she was trying to get me to come to the birthday party she _arranged for me._ ”

 _You’re a jerk¸_ Johanna’s conscious snapped at her. She agreed.

“Ah… well, I’m sure she’ll understand,” the doctor said encouragingly.

Johanna stood up slowly and stretched.

“I should go.”

“Do you need help carrying your things?” Chakwas said looking at Johanna’s little pile.

“No, I’m good,” she answered, stuffing the stack of cards into one of her larger pockets, tucking the little Normandy under an arm, and lifting the glass terrarium carefully so as not to disturb the sleeping hamster inside.

“Well, good night, then. Happy birthday, Commander.” Chakwas smiled and turned to walk away. “Saren the hamster,” she said under her breath “That’s _great._ ”

 

Johanna laid the Normandy on her desk and softly placed Saren’s tank on the shelf behind her desk. She looked around the cabin for a minute. As a child she had always been told that when you’re apologizing to someone you should look them in the eye. She felt suddenly awkward and not at all sure where she should look. Settling on the speaker, she took a deep breath.

“EDI?” she asked.

“Yes, Commander?”

“I… I’m sorry I yelled at you earlier.”

“I understand. Medical records indicate that you are under a great deal of stress lately.”

“Yeah,” Johanna ran a finger over the model Normandy, wondering if it was not as good a place to address as the speaker. “It’s still not an excuse. I’m sorry”

“Apology accepted.”

“Thank you for the party… and for forcing me to go, EDI.”

“You’re welcome, Shepard. Happy birthday.” There was a distinct tone of warmth in EDI’s mechanical voice.      

That night Johanna fell asleep reading the cards made for her by her crew and, for the first time in a long time, she slept well.


	8. Kaidan

It had been three weeks since Kaidan Alenko had taken up his new position as the head of the Special Biotics Division and he had to admit that he was beginning to love the job. It had been a surprise, and not an entirely welcome one, when Hackett had sent down the order. He should have been grateful, the job came with a promotion to the rank of major, but at the time he wasn’t in much of a mood to be happy. His old grief had reasserted itself with the re-emergence of Johanna Shepard and transformed into anger, both at her and just about anyone who said her name.

This anger, combined with a great deal of confusion, was taking over when the Admiral set him on this new path. The work was good for him. His students were younger biotic soldiers, people who, by virtue of their age, had not been exposed to the same training program he had had to endure. He saw something of himself in all of his students and knowing that they would never be put through the likes of his old instructor, a Turian named Vyrnnus, helped him to sleep better at night.

It was drizzling when he left his apartment, another grey morning in upstate New York, and the first hints of autumn nibbled at his skin. He didn’t have far to go, he lived on the base, and he found the chill bracing. All the same, he decided that a hot beverage was in order.

The coffee pot in the instructor’s lounge was notoriously inconsistent, managing to turn out truly mystifying batches of coffee that ranged from black lumps of mud to water that had clearly ignored the coffee grounds altogether. It was almost worth stopping by just to see the day’s results. Today, optimistically pouring the contents of the pot into a mug, he was impressed to see what looked like honest-to-god coffee. Cautious, he sniffed it- better men than he had been fooled by the looks of the pot’s coffee. It smelled like coffee, too. He took a sip.

“Wow,” he said aloud, staring in wonder at the actual, drinkable mug of coffee in his hand. He had time before he needed to meet his students, so Kaidan took a seat in the longue to enjoy his cup of magic. He was about to take another sip when a familiar, nasal voice interrupted his reverie.

“Good morning, Earth. I’m Khalisah Bint Sinan al-Jilani. It’s been four days since the Bahak System Relay was destroyed, wiping out the system and killing more than 300,000 Batarians. As we now know, this crime was perpetrated by disgraced former Alliance Commander Johanna Shepard and is being called the greatest crime against the galaxy since the Geth attacked the Citadel some two years ago.”

A television was playing on the other side of the room and the morning news had started on the Westerlund News Channel. Kaidan lowered his cup with a grimace. He knew it had been too much to ask for to enjoy his coffee in peace.

The coverage of the Bahak Relay Disaster had been continuous since the story had broken. The Alliance News Network, presumably under orders from High Command, was trying to downplay the incident, while WNC was unrepentant in their desire for Shepard’s head. At first there had been no word to him or any of the officers on the base from Command on the subject; after all, Shepard was no longer Alliance. After two days, however, the rumors flying through the rank and file had become so confused and numerous that an official statement was released to the officers. Kaidan had been surprised by just how short it was.

> _Bahak System confirmed destroyed._       
> 
> _Johanna M. Shepard working independently of the Alliance Military._
> 
> _Discourage all rumors._

Really the order raised more questions than it answered but he was glad to have it. Before, his reluctance to discuss it had been viewed with suspicious and curiosity; his work with Shepard was common knowledge on the base. His students had been easy to brush off; a simple threat to write someone up for insubordination for inquiring about the personal life of a superior officer may have sounded like he was avoiding the issue but it was effective. His fellow officers and instructors, however, were not so easily put off. They had attempted to engage him from many angles, from the relatively subtle- “Yeah, I don’t know what’s going on with Shepard these days… Alenko, didn’t you used to work with her?”- to the more direct- “Alenko, you have to know something about this.” The new order had put an end to virtually all gossip by the officers and if the soldiers were still talking they kept it to themselves. 

The order, however, could not stop the news networks from rampant speculation and Kaidan had heard some truly awful things come out of the mouths of reporters. Most of them agreed that Shepard had become delusional, obsessed with fame she thought yelling about Reapers would get her, and that this was an attempt to reclaim the glory she got from saving the Citadel. They accused the Alliance Military of being a club, unwilling to punish one of their own, but otherwise uninvolved. To be fair, Kaidan believed that WNC was spewing these awful things to shift the blame for Aratoht, the Batarian planet in Bahak, off of Humanity and onto the shoulder of either Shepard or the Council. The Batarians had been chomping at the bit to declare war on Humanity for years and many feared this would serve as a perfect excuse. Westerlund’s method, however, was more than Kaidan was willing to put up with, so he walked across the room to turn off the television. 

His hand was touching the off button when Johanna’s face came on the screen and made him stop. Her face, life-size on the television, was only inches from his own and the sudden illusion of intimacy sent a chill through him. He no longer heard the horrible things Khalisah was saying, his focus entirely on the dark grey-blue of those eyes and the long lashes that sheltered them.

Swallowing, he took a step back. Johanna was speaking, but her audio had been cut in favor of al-Jilani. The footage was old; Johanna’s old scars were still intact, one crossing her chin and the other dividing her right eyebrow. Kaidan recognized it as having been taken some time not long after she had been made Spectre and was surprised to find that he could even remember what she was saying. He realized why- he saw himself in the background, standing over her left shoulder, and for a moment he was back there, listening to his commander calmly defend the Council even as they disregarded everything she said. The feelings he saw reflected in the gaze of his old-self came back to him, those of growing love and deep admiration and respect.           

The spell was broken when the picture changed, cutting to a new reel.

“We caught up with Shepard late yesterday afternoon on the Citadel,” Khalisah said and the accompanying audio for the clip was played. Al-Jilani was running through a crowded Citadel, pushing people out of her way, her camera bobbing along after her. Through the people Kaidan could make out a red stripe flanked by white painted on black armor.

“Commander Shepard, Commander Shepard!” she shouted as she fought her way to where Johanna was. Shepard had been walking with apparent purpose but stopped when she heard her name called; Kaidan had never known her to ignore anyone who sought her out, not even al-Jilani. There were two people with her, a woman in a black Cerberus uniform that he recognized from Horizon, and an older man in yellow armor whose face looked as though half of it had been blown off. While Shepard accepted al-Jilani’s approach with stony acceptance, _they_ did not attempt to hide their extreme annoyance.

“Khalisah Bint Sinan al-Jilani, Westerlund News,” the reporter announced boldly despite her lack of breath as she finally caught up, “Commander Shepard, you destroyed an entire system and murdered more than 300,000 Batarians.”

Johanna opened her mouth to defend herself but was beaten to the punch by her male companion.

“Fuck you,” he growled, taking an aggressive step towards Khalisah. Looking more closely at him, Kaidan noticed that he had the emblem of the Blue Suns tattooed on his neck.

“ _Zaeed,_ ” Shepard said sharply and put an arm out front of him. He glared at her for a second before baking off. Al-Jilani, however, did not appear to have been discouraged by his intimidating demeanor.

“Weren’t you satisfied with having betrayed the Alliance and Humanity by working with Cerberus?” she demanded.

“Shepard, we should leave,” the Cerberus woman said to Shepard, who nodded hesitantly and turned to go, but al-Jilani reached out, grabbed her by the shoulder and forced her back around towards the camera.

“How do you live with yourself, _Spectre?_ ” she demanded, clearing believing that she had Shepard on the run. Johanna, although surprised by the question, refused to be stared down, looked her dead in the eye, and answered in a voice that was almost inaudible.

“ _I don’t know._ ”

A split second later Zaeed’s large figure filled up the shot as he rushed forward.

“Get your bloody hands off her,” he roared, tearing Khalisah’s hand off of Shepard and pushing her forcibly back. She collided with her camera, sending it spinning. The footage cut away to al-Jilani sitting in a much more peaceful studio set with two other reporters.

“It’s hard to believe the kind of person she’s turned into,” one of the other reporters said, his voice dripping with empathy for Khalisah’s ordeal.

“This just shows what a horrible influence the Council and the Spectre program is on people,” the third reporter agreed.

Kaidan finally turned off the television and stood there staring at the now black screen.

“Jo,” he whispered, his brow furrowed, “what are you doing?”

He hadn’t been sure what to think about the Bahat Relay; he found the idea of her being responsible for slamming an asteroid into the Relay to be hard to believe at best. His instincts told him that _if she had_ gone to such lengths… The Reapers had to be involved somehow. His trust in the officer he had served under was still strong enough to believe that whatever she had encountered justified her actions. He knew the Batarian Hegemony, though, and that it didn’t matter to them whether she had acted justly. If they wanted her blood then that was it and it would take something big to knock them off their course. It struck Kaidan that a Reaper invasion might actually save her.

However, it was the sight of her on the Citadel that really concerned him. Who were these people she was with? A Cerberus agent and a mercenary… were they her team or her handlers? Could Johanna actually trust the Cerberus woman or was she simply required to keep her around? The man had appeared to care on some level about Shepard, whether it was genuine loyalty or love of money, but he also appeared to be unstable.

 _Where was Garrus?_ he thought angrily, stalking back to his seat. She needed people she could trust and he found himself thinking savage thoughts about the possibility that the Turian had abandoned her. It took him a moment to recognize the irony.

Kaidan sighed and ran his hand over his hair, the static energy from his biotics delivering tiny shock to his fingers. He had no right to criticize anyone for abandoning Johanna. He hoped to god that Garrus was still with her, or that she had found people she could trust, because the thought of her alone and friendless in the universe was too much for him to bear. Johanna was strong, stronger than anyone he had ever known, but she was only human and humans, by their own nature, needed others to survive.

Kaidan sipped his coffee but it had gone cold. He poured it down the sink and left for his class, trying to turn his mind from the woman in the armor on tv, the woman whose name, when he was alone in the night, still formed on his lips.

He had tried so many times to convince himself that, when he felt overwhelmed by the world and closed his eyes to try to find his footing again, her smiling face didn’t flash across his mind. He told himself that he wasn’t in love with her anymore. Which was worse, he wondered: that he was lying to himself or that he was aware of it?


	9. Liara

The sheer volume of information that Liara T’Soni now had at her fingertips was staggering. The Shadow Broker was infamous for seeming to know everything but now, as she began to sort through her newly acquired database, she realized just how true that was. The mantle of Shadow Broker had been on her shoulders for less than day but already she had learned more sensitive information than she had dug up during the almost two years she had spent as an information broker on Illium. However, the transition of power was hardly running smoothly; Liara was having a hell of a time sorting through all of the information. If there was a system to the madness she had yet to discover it. The millions of files were completely without categorization, all thrown into one digital heap in the console. Even blessed with an organized mind as she was, Liara was floundering.

Among her inheritance was a VI, silvery floating program that hovered over her shoulder, whirring and giving her constant reminders about incoming messages and upcoming appointments with her newly acquired agents. It bounced around merrily, undiscouraged by her requests for it to leave her alone and to shut up. Apparently it hadn’t noticed any change in its master. Yagh, Asari, apparently the VI considered one organic as good as the next.

“Why in the name of the goddess would anyone need to know which brand of Kirassian caviar the Hanar ambassador prefers?” Liara asked, mumbling to herself as she leafed through yet another document. She could, of course, think of a few practical applications for that particular tidbit of information but it was hardly something she cared to look at just now.

“How am I supposed to find anything in here? _Why is everyone so disorganized?!_ ” she shouted in frustration, throwing her hands up.

“Yesterday at 3:32 pm you had me delete your database’s filing system, Shadow Broker,” the VI mechanical voice said over her shoulder. Liara turned slowly to look at it.

“I… what?” she asked quizzically. Yesterday afternoon she and Shepard had only just boarded the ship. Whatever command it was talking about must have been given by the old Shadow Broker.

“Yesterday at 3:32 pm you had me delete your database’s filing system,” it repeated but added, “when your ship’s security systems detected intruders.”

Liara groaned. She should have guessed that the Yahg would have taken some sort of countermeasure as soon as he’d learned she was on board, even if he hadn’t expected to be defeated.

“Shadow Broker, would you like me to restore your database’s filing system?” the VI piped up behind her.

“ _Restore_?” she asked, “can you do that?”

“Of course.”

“Yes,” she said quickly “please restore the organizational system.”

“Retrieving files... system restored.”

Liara looked back at the computer and what had formerly been a sea of unlabeled documents was now a beautifully curated database. Her luck seemed to be turning. Excited by this development she reached out a hand to open a folder but stopped herself.

“Did the Shadow- er, did _I_ make any other changes to the system yesterday?”

“Yes. Opening any files tagged ‘Commander Johanna M. Shepard’ will erase the database irrevocably.”

“Ah. Can you undo that?” she asked, suddenly happy that she had not made too much headway before this revelation.

“Of course. Files restored.”

“Are there any other traps like that in the database.”

“No.”

“Excellent,” she said, leaning against the metal of the database console and regarding the floating VI. “What are your main functions?”

“I have been programmed to adapt to handle a variety of situations, from clerical to social. However, you have mainly used me for my clerical capacity. I handle your schedule, sort incoming messages, maintain your database and ship’s life support, navigation and stabilizing systems.”

Already she was starting to wonder how she had lived without it.

“What are you called?” Liara asked.

“In the past you have called me ‘Idiot’, Shadow Broker,” it answered.

“That wasn’t very nice of… me,” Liara said with a frown, wondering how the former Broker had lasted so long when he was completely dismissive of what was proving to be his most valuable asset, rather forgetting how she had felt about the VI a mere five minutes ago. “Tell you what, from now on I’ll call you… ” she paused, wondering over a name when a mono-syllabic word from her archaeology days popped into her head, “Glyph. Is that okay?”

“As you like, Shadow Broker. Is there anything else I can do for you right now?”

“Yes,” Liara said, turning back to the console. Now that order had been restored she had some reading to do. “Hold all messages for the next hour. I don’t want to be disturbed.”

“Very good, I will run performance tests until you need me” Glyph said and floated away to the other side of the room.

Not wasting any more time, Liara located and opened the folder marked “Commander Johanna M. Shepard”. The Shadow Broker had counted on her to read these files as soon as she could; who was she to disappoint?

There were dozens of files in Shepard’s folder. She wasn’t surprised that the Broker had kept such close tabs on Shepard; he had, after all, gone through a lot of trouble trying to sell her body to the Collectors. She moved to open the first file, one labeled “Akuze”, but again her hand stopped. It occurred to her that this was something of an invasion of Johanna’s privacy. She had never been particularly open about her past, but then Liara had never asked her much about it. She had heard rumors of tragedies and amazing military victories but she knew little about the specifics.

Her relationship with Johanna had always been something of a curiosity. Shepard was a singular individual, a fact that Liara had immediately recognized when they met. At the time she was little more than an awkward student of antiquities, recently graduated with a doctorate but virtually ignored by most of academia. She might have remained there forever, publishing unread papers on the Protheans if it hadn’t been for her mother’s indoctrination by Saren. Shepard’s desperation for answers had brought her to Liara, arriving in time to save her from the Geth. It would have been natural not to have trusted the daughter of her enemy- the rest of the Normandy’s crew was certainly reluctant- but for some reason Johanna had seen the truth in her protestations of innocence. There had always been a trust between, a respect and a warmth. Johanna had always believed in her abilities and judgment, even when she herself had not. Liara had, for a time, interpreted this bond as a romantic link. She wondered from time to time whether, if Kaidan Alenko hadn’t gotten there first, they could have ever been together. She didn’t begrudge him his relationship with her; when Shepard died Liara had stayed with Kaidan for as long as she could. It had been Liara, though, who search for Shepard, Liara who found her, and Liara who gave her to Cerberus. What Johanna was to Liara was something indescribable. The Asari believed, no, _knew_ that in the inevitable war against the Reapers that Commander Shepard was the only good hope that the galaxy had. To that end, then, Johanna was the most important being in the galaxy. If there was anything she could do, anything she could learn, to ensure the success of her mission then she was duty bound to do it.

With sudden determination Liara opened the file marked “Akuze” and multiple tabs began opening across the large screen in front of her. There were photographs of the scene of a battle- no, not a battle- a massacre. Photographs from the autopsies of dozens of humans, though some were so badly mangled that their species were assumed, began opening on screen. The blood, gaping wounds and shredded limbs were all presented with a brutal frankness that made Liara gasp; these photos were intended to document and not to provide commentary. A video began to play of a younger Johanna sitting at a table in a military debriefing room. She looked exhausted and there were stitches across her chin and through her right eyebrow and a cast on her left arm. She stared stonily ahead of her at a man in a crisp military uniform.

“Lieutenant Shepard, this is a formality, but we need you to tell us what happened to your unit on Akuze,” the man said and began to read names off of a list. “Commander Xi Liyuan.”

“Killed in action.” Johanna answered, managing to mostly conceal the rage in her voice.

“Private Lauren Copland.”

“Killed in action.”

“Private Sven Norlund.”

“Killed in action.”

A document with an Alliance Military heading popped up- the official report on the incident. Liara tried to read it but her eyes darted through it, catching only words and phrases. ‘ _Five thrasher maws’_ and ‘ _49 N7 marines dead’_ and ‘ _sole survivor’_ and ‘ _alone for 42 hours before extraction.’_

“Lieutenant Alexander Cole”

“Killed in action.”

There were other photos now, pictures of the unit goofing off in what had to be the days preceding the attack. In one of them a handsome young man with deep brown skin had Johanna, who looked to be in her early twenties, in a playful headlock and both of them were laughing.

“Gunnery Chief Rebecca Willard.”

“Killed in action.”

Another video popped up, this one of an award ceremony. A stoic Shepard was having a medal pinned on her dress uniform.

“Lieutenant Jonathan Reed”

“Killed in action.”

There was a news article, its headline reading “Shepard: ‘I’m not a hero; I’m just alive’”. A transcript appeared, too, a record of one of Johanna’s sessions with a trauma counselor.

_Smith: And are you sleeping at night?_

_Shepard: No._

_Smith: What do you do at night?_

_Shepard: I listen._

_Smith: What are you listening for?_

_Shepard: Anything._

Liara’s eyes were torn away from the transcript by the sound of yelling. In the debriefing video Johanna had stood up and was screaming at the man across the table from her.

“THEY’RE DEAD. THEY’RE ALL DEAD. YOU _KNOW_ THAT.”

“Lieutenant, please-” the man tried to calm her but she ignored him.

“WHAT DO YOU _WANT_ FROM ME?”

“Please, Shepard, this is only a formality.”

“THEY’RE DEAD. THEY _DIED_. KILLED IN ACTION.”

Liara became suddenly aware that she was breathing very fast and that her eyes were filling with tears. Files from the folder marked “Akuze” kept opening in front of her, overwhelming her senses.

“ _KILLED IN ACTION._ ”

An audio file started playing, a distress call from the unit.

“Mayday, mayday, requesting _immediate_ back-up and extraction! Please copy! _Please, god, anyone copy!_ ” There were screams in the background.

“ _KILLED IN ACTION._ ”

Liara jumped as she felt a hand on her shoulder and out of the corner of her eye she saw someone come up beside her and reach past her for the console. With the click of a button the documents closed and fell back into their folder, returning the room to its soft mechanical hum. Liara closed her eyes, breathed deeply, and let herself be held. A strong, calm presence had filled the room and Liara didn’t need to open her eyes to know to whom it belonged.

“Shepard,” she said finally after her breathing had slowed. She opened her eyes to find her friend watching her carefully.

“You okay?” Johanna asked and gave Liara’s shoulder a squeeze.

“Yes, yes, I think so,” she answered, quickly wiping away the tears that had streaked down her blue cheeks. “Shepard, I’m sorry I-”

Johanna shook her head and took her arm away from the Asari.

“It’s okay-”

“No,” Liara protested. Whatever confidence she had had before opening up the folder had vanished, leaving her with a deep feeling of shame at having delved into her friend’s past. “I thought I could help, that if I knew more then maybe… but I had no business looking at those files.”

Johanna folded her arms and leaned against the console facing Liara. She didn’t speak but she didn’t seem angry either. _Surely she saw what I was looking at…?_ Liara thought, confusion mixing with the pool of shame she felt in her gut. After a moment Shepard looked away from Liara, up over her shoulder at the screen, glancing at the list of folders and read their names.

“I guess the Shadow Broker did his homework,” she said plainly.

“Y- yes, I think he did.”

“How many are there?”

“56 folders, 2,337 files,” Liara answered quietly.

“I must make an interesting case study,” Johanna said with a half smile and Liara felt her body relax a bit.

“I believe I said something to that effect once,” she said and Johanna chuckled. It was good to see her laugh but Liara still couldn’t quite kick the need to apologize.

“I thought I could find something to help you,” she said again but Shepard raised a hand to stop her.

“I don’t have a lot of secrets- apparently even fewer than I thought,” Johanna said, motioning over her shoulder at the screen, “and I’m not trying to hide anything from you, but,” she paused, biting her lip for a moment in thought, “I don’t think you’re going to find anything in here that will help you more than it will hurt you.”

Liara nodded slowly and looked at the list of folders again. She had only opened one. Who knew what horrors the other held?

“Are they… they’re not all…?” she breathed.

“What? Like Akuze?” Johanna shook her head softly. “No, they’re not all like Akuze. They’re not all that bad.”

“Was Akuze the worst?” she asked although she wasn’t sure she wanted an answer. Johanna didn’t respond immediately but seemed to turn the question over in her head.

“I couldn’t say,” Johanna answered.

Liara folded her arms, hugging her chest. Part of her was trying to imagine what it must have been like for Johanna to have gone through what she did, while another part of her was trying not to.

“What did you do?” she asked meekly, “After, I mean. After Akuze?”

“I got angry,” Johanna said with a shrug. “And I stayed angry for a long time. I saw a lot of good people die on Akuze, people that I cared about and that I had known for years. You don’t forget something like that but you do have to face it.” A look came over her face as though she was remembering something that had happened to her recently, “Because if you don’t, it comes back to you anyway.”

“Are you okay?” Liara asked, sensing that it was her turn to comfort her friend.

“Yes,” Shepard answered definitively, “I’m good. But Liara?”

“Yes, Shepard?”

“My advice to you is to delete these files,” she said seriously. “If there is _anything_ you want to know, ask and I promise I’ll tell you. I trust you and your judgment but the things I have been through, the things I think you might see in these files… They’re not all like Akuze… but a lot of them are.”

“I will,” Liara promised quietly and the two stood in silence.

“You know,” Johanna said finally, her tone pushing slowly towards light heartedness, “I actually came here to see if you want to have a drink on the Normandy. We didn’t have much time to talk while we were storming the Shadow Broker’s Lair.”

“A drink sounds great,” Liara said, a smile breaking across her face.

“But only,” Shepard pointed a warning finger jokingly at her “if we _only_ talk about the good old days.”

“Absolutely,” Liara agreed and the two of them turned to walk out of the room. “Do you remember the time Ashley tricked Wrex into eating a handful of jalapenos?”

Johanna laughed deeply. “Turned as red as his armor!”


End file.
